From The Beater's Perspective
by thisbrokenheartedgirl
Summary: A little one-shot on Katie and Oliver's relationship from his teammate's perspective. Mild swearing and general insanity. AU.


From The Beater's Perspective

_A/N: I found out five days ago that he likes me too. And I freaked out. We're not together because of a lot of reasons but I am happier. Though school (it's streaming year) bogs me down so I can't really write much… Enjoy._

Merlin. I think Ol' Puddlemere himself must be rolling in his grave right now. I swear, I'm going to kill the person that ever appointed Oliver Wood our captain. We have six practices a week, from dawn to dusk without fail. He's perpetually grumpy and I'm pretty sure he's never left the pitch in his entire _life_.

He needs to get laid. And fast.

Has Wood even snogged a girl? Like those long, it's-so-going-to-lead-somewhere-and-I-don't-mean-the-church snogs.

I don't think any girl could put up with his attitude. All he thinks about is Quidditch. It's obsessive, really. If you put a naked girl in front of him on the pitch, he'd probably scream at her for spying on his team.

Oh poor, Woody… He doesn't know what he's missing out on.

././././.

"I can't move."

"I can't even feel my legs."

Six men lay on the pitch, their brooms thrown to the side in abandon. Oliver stood at the side, shaking his head at his team. "Practice is over, ye lazy lot."

They groaned in response, swatting blindly at the air. "Damn you, Oliver."

He smirked, shouldering his broom and pulling off his keeping gloves slowly. "The pitch closes in an hour, men."

Now Elliot was never the most observant of the lot, but even he couldn't miss the gentle glint of the gold band that his captain had on his left hand.

"You're _married_?"

And at that point, Oliver flushed a gentle red before giving them a sharp nod and walking away.

././././.

"Didn't you guys know?" Benjy grinned, sitting up and grabbing his broom.

"Nah. I always thought that his one true love was Quidditch." I replied, twisting to get a better look at his smug smile.

"He's only been in love with the girl for years," Benjy continued, casually delving into his dear captain's private life, "Took ages for him to propose to her. She said yes and they've been married for three years already."

Was this honestly our Woody we were talking about?

"To who?"

Benjy grinned and motioned in the direction of the office, "Go see for yourself."

And, y'know, because we love our captain so much, we just had to find out.

././././.

"They have no concentration whatsoever!" Oliver groaned, flopping onto the chair behind his desk, burying his face in his hands.

"Oh, I don't know, Ol… They seemed alright to me. Maybe you're just working them too hard." Katie hummed in sympathy for both her husband and the team. Afterall, she had been in their position a few years ago.

She reached out to stroke his cheek gently, trying to console him.

"Too hard? They only work six days a week! If I had my way…" Oliver went on, looking at the array of plays on his desk.

"If you had your way," She continued, "They would live on their broomsticks." Katie paused for a moment, shaking her head in amusement, "I'm not saying that it's an entirely bad thing but they're not like you, Ol."

"They damn well should be! Don't they want to win the Cup?" He shouted in frustration, jerking away from her.

Hurt flashed in her eyes for a second before she brushed it off, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek as a last resort.

"And you, Oliver Wood, are exhausted as well. Don't tell me you aren't, I can see it in your eyes. Just give in and take a break for a while. All of you deserve it. You're practically skin and bones. And… Ollie… I miss you." Her voice faltered slightly, taking in his state. His eyes were dead, fatigue creeping into his features and hollowing out his cheeks.

For a few seconds, he was silent. When was the last time that he could curl up in bed with her and read over her shoulder? When was the last time that she had stolen his cup of coffee and kissed him good morning? And more importantly, when was the last time that he had brought her out for the night?

Katie let out a small sigh, straightening up once more. "It's your decision, Oliver. I'll see you at home."

But she barely made it five steps before he got up and caught her arm, trapping her against his desk and him.

"No." He murmured, pressing his forehead against hers, "You're right. I'm a stubborn prat. Forgive me?"

Her gaze dropped and she breathed in heavily, "Cancel practice. Just once. Sleep in, let me take care of you for the day. _Please_."

Ten years ago, she had asked him the very same question after that game against Hufflepuff. And both times, he said yes.

././././.

"Oh Woody," We sang out, barging into the office happily. To our surprise, our Quidditch Nazi had a girl (or rather, woman… If you get what I mean) in his arms. He looked into her eyes rather sadly before brushing her hair aside and kissing her gently, "Alright."

While on the pitch he had immaculate awareness of his surroundings, we discovered that when his wife was in his arms, those senses were delayed. As such, he only realized that we were in his office about a second or two later.

"What are you doing in here?" Oliver raged, pushing her behind him protectively. And if then his wife surprised us by laughing.

"Come on, Ol. Lighten up." She slipped her hand into his, effectively calming him down and stood by his side to greet us with a smile.

"I'm Katie. Katie Wood, your captain's wife." I could've sworn that he smiled when she introduced herself as that.

The lot of us walked up to her and shook her hand energetically.

"Elliot James, at your service."

"Connor Stewart, Mrs Wood."

"Benjy Williams, but y'knew that."

"Dylan Young."

"Jocelind Wadcock."

"Daniel O'Hare."

And yes, Oliver, if you're reading this, we noticed that every time us men touched her, you growled.

"That's enough, sod off y'lot." He said finally, slipping an arm around Katie's waist.

"Actually," She broke in, "Shouldn't you tell them about the change in schedule?"

Dread shot bullets straight through our veins. What if he had scheduled practices every day? This would be hell. Protests immediately sprung up from all of us.

"You can't-"

"We're half dead as it is!"

"Oh, come on, Wood…"

He smirked, nestling closer to her, "I was only going to say that practice would be cancelled for a week but if you insist…"

Katie laughed as if he had pleasantly surprised her before giving him a small smile.

And we all heard Oliver say, "Anything for you, Kates."

././././.

Of course the next practice we were all worked to the bone but we were given all new schedules. 5 days a week, but longer hours too. But it didn't matter. We were all happier (to be honest, we all thought that it was because Ol' Woody and us were finally pals) but when he went into Nazi mode, we were sure that Kates would always calm him down.

Their relationship was a strange one. He would do anything to make her happy but when he went out of control, she was always there to calm him down. Even when he threw a vase at her out of sheer blind anger, she was by his side, coaxing him and kissing him from his rage.

And that is their marriage, from the beater's perspective.

_A/N: I don't quite know what to think of this one. Comments?_


End file.
